


Losing You Has Never Felt Like Hope

by theemdash



Series: Five Kisses Across Time [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, M/M, Pining, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Promises, Shower Kissing, Showers, Wakanda (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:27:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24164371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theemdash/pseuds/theemdash
Summary: Fresh from the fight with Tony, Steve gets a surprise visitor in the shower who remembers more about their past than Steve hoped. (Or, that time when the Winter Soldier snuck into Steve's shower to be maudlin and make out.)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Five Kisses Across Time [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741873
Comments: 11
Kudos: 98





	Losing You Has Never Felt Like Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a response to Get Your Words Out 2020 Yahtzee; **Prompt:** Damp
> 
> Thanks to [sopdetly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sopdetly/) for betaing and for not throttling me when this was still so angsty.

**2016**

Sanctuary, a place to rest, a place to heal—everything in Wakanda is too good to be true, but a hot shower after the days of fighting and running and resisting is at the top of Steve's gratitude list. He can't forget what happened with the Accords and Tony and his whole life, but after the long day and longer night, he's ready to put it down for a bit, let go of everything, and maybe, for fifteen minutes, actually take care of himself.

He steps under the shower spray, rust-colored water running over his chest, the warm pressure against his back working loose some of the tension. Not enough, but some. Enough that he doesn't notice the body moving behind the obscured glass until the door cracks open.

"Hey!" He twists, shielding himself.

"Nothing I haven't seen," Bucky's quiet voice croaks. He's stripped down and steps in the shower, closing the door quickly to keep in the steam. He dips his head forward, hair falling over his face. "This okay?"

He tries not to look at Bucky—to not look at all of him—but his eyes scan the expanse of white, scarred flesh, land on freshly healing cuts knitting themselves back together, on fading bruises that a few hours before had been sickeningly black, on how every inch of him is strong, but gentled, controlled, precise. Everything about Bucky is different in so many ways, but parts of him are so familiar that Steve forgets how many years have passed since 1944.

"Yeah," he stutters when he realizes Bucky needs an answer.

Bucky's eyes meet his, a sardonic smile tugging the corners of his mouth. "We used to do this," he says. "Clean up together."

Steve doesn't correct him that it was a handful of times—military showers more about efficiency than anything else, or times when Steve had a fever and Bucky was trying anything to bring it down. He also doesn't mention that this is quite the step from making Steve chase him for the past two years. "This shower's a lot nicer, though." He steps to the side, letting Bucky siddle closer to get under the spray.

"Roomier, too." Despite that, despite there being plenty of space, Bucky's thigh brushes against Steve, his fingers skim the back of Steve's hand as he reaches up to push back his hair. He leans his head into the water, long neck stretching with the movement. Steve lets out a stuttering breath.

"Let me." Steve doesn't really process what he's doing, just starts brushing Bucky's hair back and into the water flow, slicking his hair away from his face. His fingers ghost Bucky's skin, sinking into his wet hair and combing through, stroke after stroke. When Bucky lowers his chin, blinking water from his eyelashes, the warmth has heated him enough to bring the redness back to his lips. "Buck," Steve whispers, heart already dangerously wrecked.

Bucky touches Steve's chest, slides his hand up Steve's neck. He licks his lips, nervousness there, but no hesitation in the fingers climbing Steve's skin. "We did this too," he whispers, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to Steve's lips. "Right?"

The tentativeness reminds Steve of another time Bucky initiated a kiss, a long time ago when he'd been just as unsure of the outcome, but Bucky had always been braver with his heart than Steve.

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and pulls him close, their bodies fitting together like they've never been apart. "Yeah, we did," he whispers before kissing Bucky, open-mouthed and hungry, desperate for the man he finally has in his arms again.

Bucky kisses him back in kind, fingers carding into Steve's hair, holding him close and clinging. It's exactly how Steve feels, mirrored in his own grip, ignoring the fact that they're both bruised and broken to hell—Bucky especially, still missing his left arm. His fingers claw at Bucky's skin, coaxing a gasp, but Bucky kisses harder, pressing against Steve, bodies sliding together under the spray of water.

He tastes Bucky's lips, his tongue, and feels a little clumsy, partly because he hasn't frenched someone since Bucky died and partly because he keeps changing his mind about where to kiss and touch Bucky next.

When he breaks to kiss along Bucky's jaw, Bucky gasps, "Wasn't sure."

He comes back to Bucky's lips, kissing him again and lingering sweetly. "Took a hell of a chance," Steve chuckles, fingers tracing the contours of Bucky's face, relearning his jaw and cheekbones. He can't stop touching Bucky, or leaning in to kiss him, little pinches on his lips and nose and chin, his heart full in a way it hasn't been since he woke up from the ice. Happy. The word is foreign, but Steve embraces it the same way he embraces Bucky.

"Trusting you is easier than trusting my memories."

Steve sighs, forcing his hands to settle at Bucky's waist and just hold the man. "It's okay if you don't remember us. We didn't—I mean, it wasn't—" He doesn't know how to explain how stifling their relationship had been. Hidden behind trenches, stolen in the night, moments of comfort that often felt empty alongside piling losses. And when they had a glimpse that the war might be over, that they might be allowed to go home and figure out how to be together, Steve had failed Bucky.

"I remember enough," Bucky whispers. "And I still feel… the way I did then." He nudges his nose against Steve's. "To the end of the line."

Steve closes his eyes and presses his face against Bucky's, the words that had woken his best friend echoing in his thoughts. They'd been a long shot, a reckless prayer, desperation pulled from their past in the hope that Bucky would remember the promise they'd made to each other.

Bucky kisses him softly, lips scarcely moving against Steve's skin. His voice is barely audible over the water. "But it can't be like that yet."

Steve swallows hard and tightens his grip around Bucky like Bucky threatened to move away immediately.

"Steve." It's an admonishment and a plea all in one and Steve immediately feels guilty. He doesn't mean to make this harder. Bucky's already got it hard enough. All the strength they gave Steve, and he's still not strong enough to bear losing Bucky again.

"No, I know," Steve whispers, forcing his arms to slacken. "We're different. You're—"

"A goddamn mess. Dangerous." The word snarls between his teeth. He immediately gentles, hand coming up to brush Steve's hair, run his thumb over Steve's furrowed brow. "I don't want someone to use me again."

"Never," Steve promises, and he's not going to fail Bucky this time.

Bucky releases a soft breath and kisses Steve fiercely, his own promise that literally curls Steve's toes, and then a gentler kiss that settles in Steve's heart like an apology. When he pulls back he whispers, "I'm going to let them put me under."

Steve holds Bucky's gaze, trying to keep the disappointment and fear off his face. From what he'd seen, the Wakandans knew what they were doing—they were Bucky's best bet for deprogramming—but hadn't they both spent enough time on ice?

"I know it's not what you want to hear."

"No, Buck—" He doesn't have an argument. Bucky's right, it's not what Steve wants to hear, but it's not his call. 

He presses his palms flat against Bucky's back. "Whatever you decide. However long it takes. I'm here. I'm always going to be here." Steve meets Bucky's eyes. "I mean it. I'm with you."

Bucky closes his eyes, forehead pressing against Steve's, just the way they used to, but this time they can stay like this for as long as they want. No Commandos breaking up their quiet. No threat of a dishonorable discharge. No concerns about living a less complicated life. Just them, and the amount of time it takes for the water to run cold.

"You'll be there?"

Bucky doesn't have to specify when because Steve's answer is the same either way. "Always." This time neither of them will wake up alone.

**Author's Note:**

> The fics in this series can be read stand-alone, but there is an emotional arc across all five stories.


End file.
